Stepping with trepidation.
Slow and steady, ready for anything.
Sure and cautious, nauseous to
see how nervous one can be without
spewing lunch. You have a hunch
something lurks behind each corner.
Something scary. Something surely
stalking you. You hear every
sound around you as you
sneak in the shadows. But, fragile egg-
shells were meant to be trod upon,
stepping with trepidation!

(C) Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt 323: Hesitation


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